Holding on, letting go
by BecJedi
Summary: The very moments after Qui-Gon's death and how Obi-Wan reacts to it. Missing scenes from TPM.
1. Holding on

"He is the chosen one…train him."

Qui-Gon's final desperate words rung in Obi-Wan's head. His hands clutched at his master's chest, still in spasm at feeling the last breath leave Qui-Gon's body, never to move his chest again. He did not know how his master's dying words sounded so clear through his heartbreaking sobs. He hugged Qui-Gon's body, rocking back and forth as he let all the things he was feeling come out. Pain. The one word was not enough. Agony. Not even close. His insides scrunched up, his body wanted to curl itself around Qui-Gon and never let go. The warmth left the great man's body so fast, like a fleeting spirit. He went limp, all the evidence of his great strength gone. Obi-Wan had always relied on his master's warmth, his master's strength. Now all he could do was cling to the dead body that had once housed the soul of his mentor, his friend…the closest thing he'd ever had to a father.

"I'm not ready, master!" He cried, resting his forehead on Qui-Gon's. "Please, don't leave me!"

Futile words. He let out a scream of unbearable suffering. If he had not vowed to train the boy who had lived in Qui-Gon's last words, he would gladly draw his master's lightsabre and end it all. Death would kill the pain. Nothing could be worse than this. Nothing.

He felt shadows on him. People drew closer. He heard the queen's voice, far off in another world.

"Obi-Wan…I'm so sorry…"

Another great cry spilled from Obi-Wan's mouth. He didn't care if he was a jedi. He didn't care that he was supposed to be 'composed'. This was too hard. He felt a hand on his shoulder and jerked away. This was far too hard. He'd seen the injustice of war, he'd seen the cruel hand of poverty. But nothing was more painful than this. He would give anything to make the pain go away, anything to have Qui-Gon back by his side. He felt the man's beard scratch his face as he held his forehead to his. He continued to wail for hours. The pain never left. It did not become more bearable. He would never be free from the aching in his heart. He would stay here forever, unable to accept the passing of his master. Time had failed. It was no more. Qui-Gon had taken it with him to the grave. Nothing moved but Obi-Wan's heaving body, as his tears came pouring down his cheeks. Let death take him now. Let death return him to his rightful place by his master's side.

More figures came, but these were different. He felt the force emanate from them, trying to bind him in their energy. But not even the force could reach him now.

One of the figures bent down beside him, so close he could fell the intruder's robes on his skin. He hugged Qui-Gon closer. They were here to take his master away.

"Obi-Wan, you need to clam down. Feel your pain and let it go," he heard Mace Windu say, his deep, normally harsh voice strangely soft and caring.

Let his pain go? Oh, he was feeling it alright, but it was embedded too deeply in his soul to be let go. He continued sobbing, curling up as he held his master to his chest.

"Obi-Wan, let Qui-Gon go. Put his body down. That is the first step."

__

Never. He would have said it if he weren't gasping hopelessly for air.

He felt Yoda's three-fingered hand on his knee. "Let Qui-Gon go, you must. Fade, this pain will, but let it go, you must."

Obi-Wan buried his face in Qui-Gon's chest, breathing in the man's scent as he willed the others to go. He knew soon that smell would only be a painful memory.

"Obi-Wan, please don't make us pull you away from Qui-Gon's body. You have been crying like this for five hours now. You have been throwing up blood; we can see it on your tunic. Put him down…or we'll make you."

His grip on Qui-Gon grew stronger. No. He wasn't going to let anyone take his master away from him.

He felt two hands on his shoulder, two hands on the tensed arms he wrapped around his master. They pulled softly on him and his cries grew. He was not going to let go. They could see that. Four jedi pulled at him, ripping him away from his master. He screamed in protest, in desperate denial. But he was not strong enough, just like he had not been strong enough to save Qui-Gon. Mace Windu yanked him to his feet as two others placed Qui-Gon on a stretcher and lay a white sheet over his body.

"NOOOOOOOOO!" Obi-Wan shrieked, trying to get back to his master. But Mace would not let him go.

"Obi-Wan, calm yourself!" He said firmly.

Mace then let go of his shoulders, knowing Obi-Wan did not have the energy to fight two jedi knights. He let loose another cry as he slipped weakly to his knees, helplessness filling his quivering body. The young man sobbed inconsolably into his hands, his agonizing wails echoing off the walls. They all tried to calm him down but their soft words could not be heard. He had let Qui-Gon die. He had let them take him away. It was all his fault. Such pain was a deserved punishment. Eternal suffering would plague his soul forever. And he cried. He cried and cried and cried.

But then he heard another voice, a voice from inside his head.

__

"Never hold onto pain. Never hold onto to the things that pull you back. I have let it happen, and until I loosened my grip on my anger, my pain and my fear, until I let it all go, I was being destroyed from the inside. I almost completely lost control. You were there, remember? Tahl's death shattered me; it tipped me over the edge. Don't let yourself be sucked into that whirlwind of madness. Have the knowledge to see where you went wrong, have the strength to move on and never hold onto your anger…your fear. For when you hold onto to such destructive emotions, the pain becomes part of you. When that happens, there is no hope. You will conquer it. You will be strong. I have faith in you, Obi-Wan. I always will."

The old lesson bounced around in his mind, echoing words long forgotten. He looked up from his hands and stopped crying. The last batch of tears left his red, puffy eyes. He could not let go of this pain, but he would hide it. He'd be strong for Qui-Gon. He'd keep his word. But he'd also keep the pain.

Obi-Wan got to his feet, his eyes wide, not blinking once. He was in a zombie like daze, receiving some frowns but not noticing one. He trudged along beside his master's body, looking as dead as Qui-Gon, if not more so. He let no one touch him, he shrugged the warm hands away, and he would look at nothing but the ground. His tears were gone but his heart was still breaking. This was too painful. This was too hard.

***

Time had returned from the grave. Qui-Gon, however, had not. The sun painted the sky with dabs of pink and orange as it ended another day on Naboo. It's beauty was rival to nothing, but such sights could not been seen through Obi-Wan's eyes. He ignored it as he walked slowly to the place his master's funeral was about to begin. About to begin was an hour from now. Obi-Wan wanted to be the first one there. He wanted to be alone, not just with his master but with himself. The last few days had been filled with so many people, all with the same words. "We're so sorry, Obi-Wan." He could reply only one thing. 

"So am I." 

The young jedi's face had been washed of all tears but his eyes still held them tight. A mask of calm had replaced his face of suffering. He did not like this mask. It was a lie. He chose simply not to look at it. Windows and mirrors had become an enemy.

He reached the stone building where the funeral was to take place to find it deserted of all spirit, devoid of soul. The funeral pyre was accommodated by his master's body. The man's large hands had been placed over the deep wound that had forsaken his life. Obi-Wan stopped for a moment, staring from beside a pillar. He felt so close but so very far, like he was staring into a painting. He leaned against the pillar as he had with Qui-Gon so many times, feeling the truth of his youth engulfing him in a blanket of insecurity and doubt. He felt afraid to approach his master, just as he had been as a twelve-year-old jedi student. But something pushed him on. He wondered over to Qui-Gon until he could move no closer, now looking down on the still, lifeless body. He did not know this feeling. He had always looked up at Qui-Gon, never down upon his face. It felt strange. It felt wrong, hideously wrong. Tears fought viciously to escape the prison of his eyes. 

__

Be strong, you fool, he told himself. _Be strong for Qui-Gon._

His hands lingered over his master's head, wanting so much to touch his face just to see if his nightmare was real. He trembled. His hands shook violently.

"I'm not ready," he whispered to the lifeless body. "Please don't leave me."

But he had already left.

Obi-Wan flinched, noticing that one of Qui-Gon's fingers had slipped through the gapping hole in his stomach. He moved his hands towards Qui-Gon's and softly shifted the finger back into place. His hands felt the wound, the flesh so cleanly cut by the sith's blade of light. It felt smooth, yet painful. He almost jerked his fingers away but then they fell upon Qui-Gon's large hands. He held them, somewhat shocked to feel them so very cold. The smoothness of his nails, the tiny hairs on his fingers, the tough skin worn from so many missions. All that was still there. Why had the warmth gone? Who had stolen his master's strength? Obi-Wan pressed his hands against his master's, willing his warmth to go from Qui-Gon. Only a cold reality was returned. A strangled sound of sorrow escaped his throat. He bent down and kissed his master's forehead, letting go of Qui-Gon's hands and moving a hand up to cup the man's bearded cheek. No warmth was offered there either, but just to touch Qui-Gon gave Obi-Wan the hope that his master would come back to him. He felt his nails dig into his master's face, wanting never to let go. His heart cried the word 'father', but his lips let something else out.

"I'm not ready."

Yes, he was scared. He was so very scared. The rank of Jedi knight now replaced the title of padawan. He was only twenty-five. Funny how only days before he had used his age to say that he was too old to be a padawan. Times change. Qui-Gon had told him he still had much to learn, then moments later claimed he was ready to be a knight in front of the council. Qui-Gon didn't seem to know whether or not Obi-Wan was ready. But Obi-Wan knew. He wasn't. 

Did Qui-Gon know that his death was to be on the sword of the sith? Did he know that Naboo was going to be his last mission? Obi-Wan cursed him bitterly if he did. He could have prevented it. Why did he run forward? He could have waited for Obi-Wan. Through his entire padawanship Qui-Gon always told him to stay close and to back him up in battle. "Teamwork, padawan," he would say, winking in the way that told Obi-Wan he was in a cheeky, joking mood. "Ever heard of it?" He would sometimes laugh at Obi-Wan in training when he would try to be the hero by splitting off from the group. He remembered the very expression on his master's face the first time he watched Obi-Wan do it. Laughing, with the most amused grin on his unshaven face. He ruffled the thirteen year old's hair and said one thing. 

"United we stand, divided we fall, little one. No one's here to be the hero."

__

Divided we fall. Indeed.

A small smile graced Obi-Wan's lips as he remembered his response to Qui-Gon's comment.

"I didn't think a man like you would use cliches, Master Qui-Gon."

The comment had just burst out of his small mouth without any thought of the repercussions. He had not believed it then, and he did not believe it now. But he had said it. And Qui-Gon had laughed again. He gave Obi-Wan _that_ smile. The very soft, warm one. It lasted for only a moment and then he was laughing again, shoving Obi-Wan forward and shouting, "don't be the hero, padawan!"

__

Don't be the hero? What were you doing then, rushing ahead, pushing the sith forward?

Anger boiled his blood. He let it cool. He had no right to be angry at Qui-Gon. He knew, deep down in the broken pieces of his heart, that he was to blame for Qui-Gon's death. Everything…it was all his fault… 

Obi-Wan heard the sounds of footsteps around him. Shadows danced on the ground. An hour already? Had it really been an hour? Now time fooled him. What a cruel thing it was. Freezing when his tears did fall, disappearing before he had a chance to say goodbye. He quickly darted up from his master and pulled his hands back down by his side. He drew his hood up over his head, wanting to hide his young face that felt so hideously old. He could feel the eyes of his fellow jedi on him as he backed away from his master, his head down. He felt so alone, even with them all there. He had a feeling he was going to be alone for the rest of his life. At first people would surround him, but their company could be nothing but empty. And then they would leave…what was this feeling he had? Grief? Self-pity? He did not care. The other jedi tried to send the force out to him, attempting to wrap a warm, reassuring blanket around him. He used the life-binding energy to push the others' efforts back.

__

Bring my master back, devils. Then you'll have your happy Obi-Wan. Try to embrace me with the force and you will have a battle on your hands.

He did not speak the words but they felt it. The energies left him. Even familiar ones he had often welcomed in times of need let him be. Yoda…Bant…was that Bant? Yes, Bant was here. But he didn't care? He ignored her when he felt her loving hand on his shoulder. He lowed his head even more, as not to see her. He heard her sigh and she backed away, going to stand with some of the council members. Those who stood by him were quiet. They did not try to touch him. Wise beings. He would let them stay.

The building was soon full, the fire soon lit. Obi-Wan stared blankly as his master became swallowed by the flames. His eyes were clouded, but they shed no tears. He felt the night met him, the sun taking Qui-Gon with it as it left the sky. He knew his master would not return with it. 

A voice sounded in his ear. Anger flushed through his veins, reddening his face. The boy, Skywalker…the one who had belonged in his master's last thoughts…dared to speak. His words were sad and sorrowful. Obi-Wan had no sympathy.

"What will happen with me now?"

__

You want to know what will happen with you, you selfish little child?! How dare you ask me such a thing now?!

Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon frown at him from the grave for his bitter thoughts. He let the scarlet from his face fade and turned to answer the boy. He told him he was to be his master now. Enormous pain filled his heart at hearing such words come from his mouth. The words left scars on his lips as he spoke them. 

No more was said. But the begging words inside called out to his master. 

__

Qui-Gon, help me! I don't know what to do! Please, help me! I need you! I miss you! Please! I can't do this without you!

Was this what Qui-Gon had felt when he had lost Tahl to the cruel hand of death? Now he understood. But how had Qui-Gon survived it? Had he? Had he really ever let Tahl go? Another small sound of misery left his trembling lips. The boy had heard. He looked back up at Obi-Wan, but Obi-Wan kept his eyes on his master. Anakin reached forward to give the young jedi a reassuring touch on the shoulder. The young knight sensed it coming and hit the boy's hand softly away, returning his own to the hidden folds of his robe as quickly as it had come out. Anakin did not try it again. But he did gave Obi-Wan a look. Many eyes felt upon Obi-Wan yet again. Bant's gaze burned at his skin. But he did not look up to meet the fiery glares that bore down on him. He just stared at Qui-Gon…no, the flames that had eaten Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan screamed inside. Qui-Gon's soul was gone, and now his body. Obi-Wan's tears wanted to be free. But he held onto them, just as he held onto the agony inside. He wanted to run, but the memory of Qui-Gon would not let him. He wanted to cry, but his honour of Qui-Gon would not let him. This was too painful. This was too hard.


	2. Letting go

Returning to the temple had been hard. Very hard. Obi-Wan had intentionally been put on a flight with Bant. She had cornered him when he'd tried to escape to the cargo bay for some peace from Anakin trying to make small talk. His tears had almost fled his eyes the minute he found her behind him. He tried to slip away but she grabbed his arms and pushed him down, making him sit on a crate. His eyes went straight to the ground.

"Obi-Wan, we need to talk," she said, her voice as soft as he'd ever heard it.

"I don't want to talk," he replied blankly.

Bant sat down on the floor where he was staring. He could not help it. Their eyes met. There was so such concern in Bant's silver eyes. He felt an angry growl develop in his throat and his eyes narrowed. He did not need pity.

"Obi-Wan, you have been pushing even Master Yoda away–"

"I don't want to talk about this, Bant," he said a little firmer.

"Well…if you won't talk to me, then talk to someone else. Maybe one of the Temple's counsellors–"

Obi-Wan stumbled back on his crate and backed away from her. "I don't need a counsellor, Bant," he spat angrily.

His old friend got to her feet and followed him. "Yes, you do. I know how much Qui-Gon meant to you and Obi-Wan, he meant a lot to me too. We're all going to miss him but we've let him go. We've accepted his death. You have not."

"Don't you tell me you know how much Qui-Gon meant to me, because you have no idea! You don't miss him like I do! You don't know anything! You weren't there! You didn't see the look of complete shock on his face when the blade went right through him! You don't know anything!" He yelled at her.

Bant was quiet for a moment and silence met them. But soon her small, sweet voice filled the disturbed air. "Doesn't that feel better, talking about it?"

"No! No, it doesn't! It only makes me feel worse! Leave me alone! I don't even want to see you, or anyone else!" Obi-Wan snapped, heading to the exit of the cargo bay.

Bant ran out in front of him and took his face in her hands. "Obi-Wan, I understand. I lost my master too–"

Obi-Wan shoved her aggressively away, almost knocking her to the ground. "Don't touch me! Don't talk to me! You don't understand what Qui-Gon meant to me! Tahl meant nothing to you! You weren't close like Qui-Gon and I! Just leave me alone! All of you!"

Bant's jaw dropped. "Don't you dare bring Tahl into this. You're not the only one who feels pain, Obi-Wan, you need to wake up to that," she said, a lot kinder than what Obi-Wan's remarks deserved.

"NO ONE FEELS PAIN LIKE THIS!" He screamed wildly at her.

Bant was silenced completely now, real fear marking her face. Obi-Wan let out a sigh.

"Bant…Bant…"

He found her pretty, kind eyes. They offered so much love and care, but he would not take it. He felt the fake mask of calm fall over his face again. His eyes glistened, giving away the truth.

"Bant…Bant…I-I…I just don't want to talk, alright? It's…it's not you…sorry…I just need to be alone right now…"

His voice trailed off, shaking so much he feared that it would erupt into crying fits. She said nothing, but her eyes spoke of understanding. For some reason, that annoyed him. He bumped past her and stormed off, the anger of her trying to understand echoing in his stride. His last words had been a beg. Anger would not get rid of her. 

He reached the hallway and hit the wall in an outburst of rage. All that he had been burying had almost escaped. He took a few deep breaths. He mustn't let it happen again. At last, he found calm again. It was quiet, at last!

"Obi-Wan, need to speak, we do."

The young knight spun around to find the little green master looking up at him. He had spoken to Yoda after Qui-Gon's death but it had been about Anakin, not his late master. He didn't plan to start now.

"No! Leave me alone!" He cried, running away.

The master sighed. Was Obi-Wan too young to be a knight? No, he didn't believe so. Obi-Wan just wanted to think himself that so Qui-Gon might come back and train him again. Denial. Anger. If only he would let go. If only he would open himself up to the force and feel Qui-Gon there. He was still alive in the force. If only Obi-Wan freed himself from his shield of pain, then he would feel it. Qui-Gon was still there with him, a sadness that his old padawan was suffering in such a way.

The master glanced up to see Bant coming out of the cargo bay, a tired look on her face. "I tried master, but there is nothing I can do."

Yoda let another sigh escape but nodded. Sooner or later, all that Obi-Wan was repressing was going to rupture out or he was going to accept Qui-Gon's passing. Yoda had a bad feeling he knew which one it was.

***

Obi-Wan was tired. Weeks had passed. Months had passed. The boy never gave him a minute of peace, always wanting to look at his lightsabre or asking him if he wanted 'to talk about Qui-Gon'. He had cut off all contact with his old friends and only bothered with the council when they called on him about Anakin. Now was one of those times. He suppressed a sigh when he heard Mace Windu's voice through the comm.

"Yes, master?" He replied dryly, scratching his new beard sleepily.

"We would like to speak to your padawan alone, Master Kenobi. Could you please send him to us?"

Obi-Wan almost cracked a smile. Some silence! Some freedom from the annoying little boy who didn't seem to understand the words 'be quiet'! "Of course, master. How long will you have him for?"

"A few hours. We need to go through some protocol with him…unless you would like to do–"

"No, no, no, master! I'll send him to you right away."

Throwing the comm over his shoulder he strode off to Anakin's room on the other side of his quarters. He knocked on the door and the little boy called him to come in. The knight poked his head in the door.

"The council has called on you. Go now."

Anakin had been tinkering with some small device. He set it down with a sigh, looking up at Obi-Wan with his wide, begging eyes. "Do I have to?"

"Yes, you do. They need to speak to you about the Code."

"Can't you do that?"

"No. Now get going."

Anakin's shoulder's sagged and his head fell as he trudged out of the quarters. Obi-Wan was too happy to see him go to correct his posture. He was alone! Alone at last!

But when the silence met him, a foe returned. The boy had taken his thoughts away from Qui-Gon. Now they returned. Everything seemed to bubble inside him. Guilt. Anger. Fear. Pain. Sorrow. All at once. It was his fault Qui-Gon had fallen to the sith. He had not been fast enough. He had not been there when Qui-Gon needed him the most. But why did he rush ahead?! _How_ could he rush ahead like that?! And why was his last thoughts on Anakin?! Could he have not said, "I'm proud of you" "I love you"? Since he was thirteen he had been by Qui-Gon's side. They had been through so much. It had taken Obi-Wan a long, long time to earn his master's trust. And it had taken that stupid boy, what? Two days?!

Obi-Wan fell to his knees, his weakened body shuddering as the tears that had built up for months escaped. They flooded down his face with no hint as to when they would stop. He cried. No matter how much he blamed himself, how jealous he was of Anakin, the fact that Qui-Gon could not be there to comfort him hurt him the most. He found himself curled up into the far corner of the room, clutching at his master's lightsabre in one hand, and the river stone Qui-Gon had given him as a thirteen-year-old in the other. He lay on his side in the fetal position, sobbing as he hid his head in his arms. All the pain flooded into him at once, all the agony he had suppressed for the past few months erupting in a violent fury. It was unbearable. It hurt every fibre of his body physically. He did not know for how long he cried. All he knew was that time didn't matter. Nothing did but the pain threatening to tear his body into pieces. His mind was already a mess.

He heard a distant sound in the background. A door was opened and closed moments after. He glanced up through his red, teary eyes. There was a figure standing over him, but his eyes blurred the being.

"Master?" He muttered through his wailing. "Is that you?"

The figure did not speak but sat down beside him. Then it lay right down next to him, curling it's legs up into it's chest just like Obi-Wan. The knight's eyes focused to find two small eyes staring back at him. It was Anakin.

Obi-Wan let out a sob of angry and embarrassed distress at the mere sight of the boy. He was about to push Anakin away when he took the knight's face in his tiny hands. He wiped Obi-Wan's tears away, even as they continued to come, his eyes never leaving Obi-Wan's. The tiny touch of the boy, as jerky as it was, seemed to reassure the knight. His tears stopped. But the look in his eyes spoke more then that. Obi-Wan saw pain there too. He had lost his mother and Qui-Gon. He was in a place far away from the land he had once called home. No one wanted him here. And somehow, seeing that innocence and understanding, seeing that potential that blossomed in Anakin's eyes…it made Obi-Wan advance in his years. He felt himself mature. The warmth of the boy made him feel safe, but the force that pulsated around him is what made the older jedi snap out of his spiral descend into depression. He loved Qui-Gon, he always would. Qui-Gon had been like a father to him. But something in Anakin's eyes made him move on from his master's death. He felt the pain and let it flow through him. In it's place the force filled him…and something happened that made him smile. He could feel his master in the force, one with the force, and he no longer felt alone. He had begged his master not to leave him, and he never had. Only now did Obi-Wan see that his master had always, and always would be, by his side. He had tried to coax the dead spirit back by telling him he wasn't ready. He was ready to be a knight, but he had not been prepared to lose the person he cared for most in the galaxy. But now he felt ready to take on the world, his new padawan by his side and his master with him in the force. Padawan. _His_ padawan. The words he had once loathed now filled him with pride. His happy smile became a fully-fledged grin. Anakin smiled back at him and Obi-Wan let go of his master's lightsabre and the river stone to stroke the boy's hair. No words were spoken. They did not need to be. They had the force. A bond grew between them. Obi-Wan was free of his past, ready to tackle the future. But he would never forget his roots. Qui-Gon would always be in his heart, with him whenever he felt the force flow through his veins. This was no longer painful. This was no longer hard. He smiled like he had never smiled before. 

And Qui-Gon smiled back. 


End file.
